Moral SONG. WOuld we attain the happiest State, That is design'd us here; No Joy a Rapture must create, No Grief beget Despair. No Injury fierce Anger raise, No Honour tempt to Pride; No vain Desires of empty Praise Must in the Soul abide. No Charms of Youth, or Beauty move The constant, settl'd Breast: Who leaves a Passage free to Love, Shall let in, all the rest. In such a Heart soft Peace will live, Where none of these abound; The greatest Blessing, Heav'n do's give, Or can on Earth be found.